My best Friend
by DixonVixen93
Summary: Strong Enough Snippet: Orwell and Vince must deal with their toddler's best friend. Vince/Orwell


**Sick of my name appearing everywhere guys? I hope not!**

**Welcome to another one of my Strong Enough Snippets! This one is going to be the sequel to chapter three of "The finer things in life." **

**Enjoy, I do not own the Cape.**

_**My best friend**_

Vince would never make the mistake of losing _any _of his children ever again. He could have sworn that his wife secretly hated his guts for letting their two year old run off. Fortunately, with a little time and pampering, Orwell couldn't stay but _so _mad.

About a week later, it seemed like everything was normal between the family. Matthew often babbled about his friend Mr. Dominic, but it had lessened some, to which both parents were grateful for. They hoped nothing would ever come up, about the friendship, in the near future. Only, we never get _everything _we want, do we?

Orwell, with her pregnancy-induced hormones, had a hankering for something sweet. Vince, being the doting father he is, decided to take his wife to the bakery downtown.

It had all started when the expecting blogger began searching through their cupboards for anything remotely sweet. Yet another downside to this second pregnancy, when she wasn't sick to her stomach, all she wanted was sweets.

Vince came downstairs and heard his wife talking to herself. He made a beeline directly for the kitchen and called out to Orwell, "What are you looking for?"

"Something sweet," Orwell said while stroking her flat stomach briefly.

The Cape laughed at his wife as she didn't even look back at him, she was too busy searching through the cabinets. Vince came up from behind Orwell and slinked an arm around her. He placed his chin on her shoulder and a hand on her stomach. "Cravings again?" Vince whispered into his wife's ear.

The pregnant blogger smiled to herself. "Oh yes."

"That baby is going to have a serious sweet tooth," Vince said as he started to let go of his wife. He kissed her on the cheek and went to sit down at the table.

"I guess so," Orwell said as she shut the cabinet door and walked over to her husband.

The vigilante opened his arms to which the blogger sat down gently on his lap. He smiled up at her and spoke gently, "We can go to the bakery if the baby's sweet tooth is _that _bad."

Orwell laughed. "Oh it's that bad. Though, we don't have to go if you don't want to."

Vince pressed his nose against Orwell's and nuzzled against it before he said, "I do want to. You and the kids are the most important thing in my life."

The pregnant blogger couldn't help but smile happily. "Well in that case, let's go."

"I'll go get the car started," the vigilante said as he got up, lifting his wife into his arms. They shared a quick kiss before Vince put her back on her own two feet. As he walked away, he looked over his shoulder once more to glance at the blogger.

Orwell pressed a finger to her lips and smirked for a moment before she shot upstairs. Trip and Matthew were in the elder child's room, playing a videogame. The mother poked her head in the room to which the boys looked at her. "Come on boys. Your dad and I are taking you to the bakery."

Matthew and Trip looked at each other with ecstatic gleams in their eyes. Needless to say it didn't take long for them to be ready to go.

The blogger walked down the hallway, only to be bombarded by her two year old who attached to her leg. "Momma!" he sang.

Orwell picked up her baby boy and held him to her hip as she continued to walk on. It wasn't long before Trip came running after them.

"How much sweets can we get?" the older boy asked the blogger.

"You both can get one thing," the pregnant mother said as they descended down the stairs.

"Aww!" both boys chorused in disappointment.

Orwell laughed at the kids and put Matthew down once they got to the front door. She locked the door and watched as her excited sons bolted for the car. The blogger rubbed her stomach lightly. Yep, it was going to be one of _those _days.

***The Cape***

Scales never thought he would run into Matthew Faraday again. He considered it to be a random choice; the smuggler honestly didn't expect a second occurrence of the situation.

He had left his boys at the dock for one reason only; no one would ever catch the gang lord admitting it out loud, but he had a guilty love for sweets. Once in a while, he would go to a particular bakery, maybe a bookstore afterwards. Today though, Scales wanted to indulge in his love for sweets. Maybe a bag of frozen made sweet rolls? He _was _quite partial to those. Of course, the smuggler had no idea what he was getting himself into.

When Scales got into the bakery, he walked straight to the glass that separated the baked goods from their consumers.

The workers at the bakery all knew the smuggler came to get his favorite rolls once in a while, but they all valued their lives. None of them would tell a living soul, and the man behind the glass wasn't any different.

He spoke to the gang lord when the man stopped in front of the case. "Can I help you, Mr. Raoul?"

Scales looked up from the baked goods and crossed his arms. "Yeah, I'll take the usual."

The man nodded. "Well sir, we've got a new sale for the rolls. Four for eight dollars, and eight for twelve dollars."

The smuggler frowned. "You could choke a donkey on that," he muttered. "You think we're all full o' money?"

The man behind the counter laughed nervously. "No sir, but those are the current prices."

"I've been comin' 'ere longer'n you've been breathin' my son. If the geezer that set those prices think I'm goin' to be payin' that-"

"Why don't I just get the manager," the man behind the counter interrupted hurriedly.

Scales scowled at the man. "Yeah. You do that, son." The man scowled back at him and strode over to the phone by the cash register.

Scales smirked, leaning against the countertop. After a few minutes, he checked his watch and began tapping his foot impatiently. Where was the manager? He turned back around to watch the other patrons of the bakery as they went about their business. About the same time, he saw the Faradays enter the bakery.

Vince and Orwell must have taught their children well. They didn't wander from them like you see other kids do in public places. The blogger scooped her youngest into her arms and he held onto his mother with a wide grin on his face.

The smuggler could only hope that they came no where remotely close to him. One time with the little nipper was enough; besides, something told Scales that dear ol' dad wouldn't be very happy with the thought of his son spending time with a criminal.

In that same moment, he heard a voice come from behind him. "Mr. Dominic is there a problem?"

Scales smirked a bit and turned around on his heels to face the manager who had the build of a guy who had one too many Twinkies. "Yeah there's a problem! Eight dollars for a bleedin' roll?"

The manager looked as though Scales was the biggest scum on the planet. "Sorry Dominic. I have to get money you know, the hard way?"

The smuggler could have easily beaten tubby to a bloody pulp, but he was trying very hard to control himself. "Well that's just fine if ya want to lose a customer."

This changed the manager's mind real quick. He flashed a false smile. "I'll go see what we can waver then."

Scales' face turned smug as he watched the manager take a sharp left back behind the counter. His smirk faltered rather quickly as he caught the Faradays start browsing the goods behind the glass.

Matthew was still in his mother's arms, giving his own commentaries as Orwell and Vince named off the items they saw.

Orwell brought her baby boy up closer to her to which she asked him, "What do we say Matthew? Some soft bread to go along with dinner tonight?"

"Okays momma," Matthew said as he rested against his mother's shoulder.

Scales was trying not to watch as the toddler snuggled against the blogger. There were strong family bonds in between them.

Matthew looked over at the man next to them. He didn't recognize him at first, but as he picked his head up he saw who it was.

Orwell looked down at her son as he was staring at Scales. "Matthew, sweetie, it's not nice to stare." She turned her head to see the smuggler. She tried to keep her calm, if Vince knew what was going on, it would not end well.

"Mommy, it's my best friend! Mommy he's here!" Matthew exclaimed as he squirmed around in his mother's arms.

The pregnant blogger sighed and placed her son on the floor. She watched closely as the toddler padded over to where the smuggler was.

Matthew attached himself to Scales' leg. "Mister Dominic! Mister Dominic do you remember me?" he cried.

The gang lord looked down at the boy and patted him on the head. "I remember ya, lad." He was clearly at a loss as he could feel Matthew's mother's eyes watching his every movement.

Orwell then strode over to Scales and spared him a smile. "I'm so sorry. He knows mommy doesn't like it when he does this," she said as she gave her son a look.

"But momma! He's my friend!" Matthew cried, holding on tightly to Scales' leg.

The smuggler detached the toddler from his leg and put him back down on the ground. Smiling a bit down at the boy he said, "Run back to your mum now."

Matthew's eyes flooded with tears. "You come too?"

Scales shook his head. "I can't do that, son."

"B-but, you need a mommy and daddy like mine!" the toddler said.

About that time, Vince and Trip came up with their bag of goods. The vigilante almost fell backwards when he saw his son looking up at a known criminal with tears in his eyes.

Matthew looked back at his daddy and ran to him. He grabbed his hand and tugged at it. "Daddy! Tell Mister Dominic that he's coming home with us!"

Vince was flabbergasted. "What? No, no little man." He looked over at Scales and started to march over to him. The only thing holding him back was his wife. The Cape was met with warm brown eyes flickering back at him. "Don't," was all she could say.

"Why not?" Vince asked in a thick tone.

Orwell narrowed her eyes at her husband. "You're the one who let him out of your sight in the first place. We should be thanking him for getting Matthew back to us."

The Cape chuckled in spite of his wife. "Thank him? Baby, he's a criminal!"

"So? He didn't seem to harm our little boy, now did he? From what I can see, Matthew is quite fond of him," the blogger spoke, still trying to keep her voice down. Her eyes held the power in it that her voice wanted to have.

Vince and Orwell watched as their son ran back over to Scales. The smuggler smirked. While he was waiting on the manager, he might as well have some fun messing around with Vince. He swooped Matthew into his arms and spoke out to Vince. "Nice kid ya have 'ere."

The vigilante looked as though his eyes would pop out of it's sockets. "I- thanks?"

"He wouldn't stop talking about mum and dad when I met him," Scales said as he patted the two year old on the head.

Matthew piped up, "I told him mommy and daddy would take care of him."

Vince knew that little kids often brought home things to their parents. Normally animals, never criminals though!

Orwell's eyes lightened as she looked at her son. "Sweetie, we can't take in anyone right now. Not with the baby on the way."

The toddler smiled over at Scales. "My mommy says I'm gonna be a good big brother."

Scales almost laughed. More kids to become attached to him? He'd rather not think of that. To tip the levels of Vince's impatience, he walked over to the Cape and handed Matthew over. The father just took his son into his arms, he looked like he was about to blow. Really though, what _could _he do?

"Nice chatting with ya, but I'd better get out of 'ere," the smuggler said. As if he knew it, the order of rolls was placed onto the counter. He only hoped for the manager's and cashier's sake that the price had dropped. He then walked up to the counter after smirking at Vince once more.

Matthew pouted a bit and reached his hand out. "Mister Dominic?" he called.

Scales turned around at the sound of the little kid's voice.

"I wuv you," the toddler said with a bright grin.

The smuggler scuffed up the little boys hair once more and gave him a light smile before turning back to the register.

***The Cape***

Later on in the day, Vince finally couldn't take it anymore. He had to vent. Sitting around on the couch playing games with the boys wasn't cutting it. He needed his Orwell for this one. At the moment, his wife was in the kitchen finishing up the cake she was baking. He pushed himself off of the couch and went in the next room over to find the blogger standing over the island, scooping leftover icing onto her finger, only to lick it off clean moments later.

"Orwell!" he practically whined.

"What?" she asked, looking down at the cup of icing promptly. "Sorry, it's the cravings," she said as she sat the cup back on the counter.

Vince shook his head. "No, not that. I just wanted to came to vent."

Orwell gave him a look. "About?"

"What happened at the bakery," the Cape said.

"What is there to say Vince? Matthew made a new friend," Orwell said.

Vince put his hands on the counter and looked into his wife's eyes. "You seem to be missing the point that it's _Scales_!"

"No, _you _seem to be taking it way out of context. Blaming Scales for your mistake," she gave him an annoyed glare and then sighed. "At least Matthew is safe, okay?"

"I know… but baby, it's still _Scales_!"

"Well maybe you should think about that next time you decide to let a _two year old _run off!" the blogger started to raise her pitch.

"Whoa, since when was this pent up emotion brought up?" Vince asked.

The expecting mother shook her head and picked up the cup of icing, tossing it into the trash afterwards.

"Orwell," he said calmly. "Look at me," she wouldn't, the blogger just crossed her arms and stared at the tiles on the floor.

Vince sighed and walked around the island counter to take his wife into his arms. "C'mon Orwell. Don't shut down on me. Talk to me."

The brunette just looked up at her husband with pregnancy-induced tears in her eyes. "Just please be more careful next time."

"I will," he nodded. "I'll make sure to have my eyes on him all the time. And when this one comes around," Vince poked Orwell's stomach, getting a small smile from his wife. "I'll be even more cautious around them. No one's ever getting out of their father's sight again."

Orwell leaned her head against her husband's chest and breathed in his scent. "Good. Because I hate when we fight."

Vince kissed the top of her head. "We were fighting?"

"Honey, I was pretty irritated with you," Orwell started.

"And here I thought it was just the hormones," the Cape said, prompting a whack in the arm from his wife.

"Very funny," the blogger said calmly.

Vince tilted her chin up and brought his head down to her level, giving her a kiss.

"Okay, I forgive you," Orwell paused and gave him a look. "This time."

**So that's it for me tonight folks! How did I do? **


End file.
